


So Love Me Tonight

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Dancing To (And Living By) The Oldies [26]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: "For All We Know", Academy Era, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, First Kiss, Fondling, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Heavy Angst, Indifferent Kirk, M/M, McKirk Slash, Men Crying, Mutual Pining, Nat King Cole, Pining Kirk, Pining McCoy, Roughness, Slash, Starfleet Academy, Touching, first time implied, song related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-07-27 16:40:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20049214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Leonard McCoy and James T. Kirk are Starfleet Academy roommates, but that does not mean that all is well between them.  Once fast friends, they have been drifting apart and have become like strangers to each other.  McCoy is upset over Kirk indifference, but does not want to confront him for fear of losing him and his friendship forever."So love me tonight; tomorrow was made for someTomorrow may never comeFor all we know."





	So Love Me Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> mindcomber, thanks for all of your support with "How To Humanize A Vulcan." Maybe this fic will help to make up for some of the McKirk slash that wasn't in "Humanize."

He didn’t know if he could force himself to go through that door, and that was crazy because it led into his own damn dorm room!

Crazy, and kind of sad.

Crazy, because a dorm room was supposed to be a sanctuary for someone in the first great adventure of Life. For many, the first real time out on their own. Their first home away from home.

Sad, because a dorm room didn't always offer that sanctuary. Sad, because it didn't really feel like home. Sad, because he really didn't have that close connection with his roommate. Sad, because he really wanted that close connection with Jim.

Sad, because he really wanted Jim.

Oh, they'd been close at first. There had been a feeling of comradeship between them, of brotherhood even, of being best buddies. But things had drifted, as things sometimes do between people. And now it felt to McCoy that he and Jim were friendly strangers, polite as hell on the surface but no real warmth anymore. And that was what McCoy was missing, the warmth, the intimacy, the sense of us against the world.

Jim Kirk was brilliant, but studies came too easily to him so he wasn't as studious as he could've been. Oh, he could produce when needed. He could pass tests, apply knowledge, impress the professors with his correlation of facts. All the while he was leaving others in an academic dust and not realizing how much he frustrated the slower students who slaved away without benefit of his brilliance. Because Kirk had no respect for knowledge, for rules, for the dedication and sweat of others. And that could've been tolerated if he hadn't acted so damn cocky about it all, like it wasn't really all that important. He detracted from the aura of respect that something had earned. In a way, that's alright. Because it's the non-respecters who make the changes so that the advances can be made.

Leonard McCoy was brilliant, too, but his intelligence was different. He had a respect for what was presented to him. He could accept it and move on, unlike Kirk who always seemed to be questioning if something didn't make sense to him. Like Don Quixote, he sometimes wore himself out fighting windmills when windmills really didn't need to be challenged. McCoy laid a groundwork of learning and built on it, similar to a bricklayer erecting a building. He had a firm foundation. He accepted, he didn't need it proven to him.

There's room for both kinds of people in the world.

But sometimes Kirk, in his ever maddening quest of wanting to know 'why,' discovered the hypocrisy of some hallowed tradition or accepted principle and brought real change. That's what made his type of non-respecter so important.

But had Kirk gone a step further? Had he taken some of the methods he used for eliminating outdated information, applied them to his relationship with McCoy, and found both McCoy and their relationship lacking in what he needed? More importantly, had Kirk found McCoy lacking? Most importantly, was Kirk bored and ready to move on, without McCoy?

Had McCoy grown obsolete and unnecessary to Kirk? Was that why Kirk was putting distance between them? Because Kirk wanted the distance to become permanent?

So that's why McCoy stood there staring at his own door. He did not know what awaited him on the other side. If anything.

Or anyone.

Was Jim on the other side? Or was he gone like he generally was these days?

It seemed the only time that Jim Kirk showed up was to grab a quick shower, change his clothing, and rush out the door for a class, a date, a rendezvous, something. Anything, it seemed, that did not include his long suffering roommate.

Why have a roommate if you never saw the guy?

At first, it’d been fun rooming with Jim Kirk. The friendly guy who was so easy to like had made certain that Leonard McCoy was invited to all of his activities, too, just as any beautiful woman would do who was trying to include her Ugly Duckling sister in the social whirl.

But that had gradually subsided. Jim had strange tastes and a preference for one-night stands with other people who were after easy sex, too. That sure wouldn’t include someone like McCoy who probably wanted a lasting relationship. With the string of failed romances behind him, though, McCoy probably wouldn’t want to try again. Kirk may even think that McCoy was someone ‘safe’ to be around since he’d been burned so many times and wouldn’t want to put himself out there again for more disappointment. Maybe Kirk even thought that McCoy was poison when it came to a relationship, so it was best to stay away from him.

That might’ve worked if Kirk wasn’t so damn charismatic, so easy to be with, yet so needy and lost, traits that he didn’t let just anybody see. But he let down his guard around McCoy because he trusted him. And all of that was so damn hard to ignore. And not to love.

For McCoy loved Jim Kirk. How could he do otherwise? McCoy just hoped that he wasn’t in love with the guy. That would be bad news all around. First, Kirk wouldn’t like it because he gave all the appearances of not wanting any entanglements. Second, if McCoy was in love, Kirk would sense it and disappear so fast that McCoy would get dizzy from his exit speed. Kirk wasn't the type to stay around for the long haul, just for the short, happy hops.

So McCoy had been giving him room. He hadn't been clingy. He hadn't been giving Kirk any reason to feel smothered by him. If Kirk didn't want his companionship, McCoy wasn't going to act dependent on him. He'd give Kirk all the rope he needed and then make it very clear that the other end of the rope was not anchored to anything solid. Particularly, anything solid like Leonard McCoy.

Oh, how it had been hurting McCoy to stay away, though. Because he liked Kirk as a person. He liked being around him. How could he not? He'd feel awfully lonely if he didn't have Kirk as a friend anymore.

For as much as he wanted a physical relationship with Kirk, McCoy did not want to chance losing Kirk’s friendship. For if Kirk was no longer in his life, there would be a huge Kirk-shaped hole in his world and in his heart. And McCoy figured-- hoped, at least-- that his absence would cause the same void in Kirk’s life and heart. He also hoped that Kirk wanted and needed McCoy’s friendship as much as McCoy wanted and needed his.

Finally, it got ridiculous. McCoy couldn’t stand out here in the hallway forever. So without thinking (he thought), he grabbed the doorknob, twisted it violently, and charged into his room with a great amount of clatter.

His sudden appearance startled Kirk who had been quietly studying at his desk. Kirk’s head shot up. And for one blazing moment, he looked scared, lost, and about five years old. Then he recognized McCoy while visibly trying to slow his heart from the frantic pounding it had started a moment before. And then an easy smile spread over his face and softened it into the old Jim whom McCoy knew. He even looked glad to be seeing McCoy.

“Practicing making grand entrances?” Kirk asked casually.

Too casually, McCoy realized. Then he understood how much he had just plain scared his friend. And that wasn't called for. McCoy didn't need to be a jerk on top of everything else he'd apparently been lately. “Ah, sorry about that," he apologized with a self-deprecating look. "Guess I tripped a little bit there," he lied. "Sometimes my magic feet fail me. Guess this was one of those times.” McCoy was rambling and knew it, but he wanted to keep the words rolling. Anything, anything to keep Kirk's attention.

“Didn’t know what your problem was,” Kirk mumbled, turning back to his studies, his interest lost already.

“Hitting the books, huh?” What a dumb thing to say, McCoy! Kirk sure as hell wasn’t painting a picture or trimming his toenails! But, hell, McCoy had needed to say something, even if it was stupid. Because he'd wanted to keep Kirk looking at him.

“Yeah,” Kirk muttered back without looking at him the way McCoy wanted. “Thought I’d try that for awhile. The writer might actually know something.”

“Yeah. Try it, you might like it.” Another asinine remark! Boy, you’re really racking them up today! Especially with that shit eating grin on your face.

Kirk looked up. Something sounded off to him about McCoy. No, that wasn’t it. Artificial! That was it! Artificial! Like McCoy wasn’t being real with him. And that shit eating grin just cinched everything for Kirk. McCoy looked like a bad con artist trying to sell a dead horse to an outlaw on the run. It wasn’t going to work out for either party, though, even if they both tried to ignore the smell radiating over the stinking carcass between them. Because whatever else went on between them, that horse was still gonna be dead.

“What’s wrong, Bones?” Kirk asked with a frown.

“Nothing.” McCoy shrugged largely. “Why? Does something need to be wrong?”

“You tell me,” Kirk said as he closed his book and gave McCoy his full attention. “What’s going on?”

The shrug that McCoy had given him had been overly done, and they both knew it. Thankfully, McCoy was bright enough not to try another shrug, although this would be a helluva good place for one. He didn't know how else to react, though. But the first shrug had been so pitiful that he dared not try another one.

And all that indecision really alerted Kirk. “Something is wrong,” he accused as he pulled himself to his feet.

“Oh, just forget it,” McCoy muttered as he turned aside.

“What if I don’t wanna do that?”

“It’d just be wise if you did,” McCoy said lowly as he turned back to glare at Kirk.

Kirk took a step toward him. “What if I don’t wanna be wise? Or smart? What if I’m just too damn dumb and stupid to shut up?”

Suddenly the atmosphere had changed in their room to something they didn’t recognize, something ugly, something they should’ve left not stirred. But stirred it was. And they both realized that there was no turning back. No compromises. And maybe no friendship any longer, either, if this didn't get figured out.

They had two roads they could take here. They could back off, mumbling halfhearted apologies until the rift was eventually forgotten in their daily routine. Or they could address it. Which they did.

Or rather McCoy did.

And he acted. Maybe it wasn't the wisest of moves, but it was a definite indication of how he was thinking and what was on his mind. And it should've given Kirk an idea of how wrought up McCoy was. For McCoy bellowed like an enraged beast and pounced toward Kirk who only had time to look startled again before McCoy landed on him.

McCoy backed Kirk against the wall with a no-nonsense herding action. Unimportant things went crashing in all directions, things like books and papers and nearly a computer. Off balance, Kirk fell backwards as his hands flew up in a defensive move. But McCoy caught each wrist and held Kirk’s hands high above his head so he couldn't move. As things and tempers settled around them, neither guy changed position. All that was heard was heavy breathing and solitary papers seeking a new home in odd places. Kirk was pinned against the wall as efficiently as a specimen on a bug board and was about as helpless.

The two guys stood braced against each other, gulping big breaths as if each had just ran a mile in front of a speeding car. McCoy tried to fix Kirk’s eyes on him, but Kirk wouldn’t quite look at his friend. McCoy's eyes were too frightening. That wasn't McCoy anymore. Where was McCoy?! What had happened to him in that telling moment when he'd made that lunge with such an anguished cry?!

Their muscular arms flexed in a physical battle of strength while their front sides continued to rub against each other in a motion that neither had been aware had started. Their fight for breath increased as their bodies reacted to the friction from another beloved body.

A sweat burst from each of those beloved bodies. As if each was doing hard physical labor. But neither was barely moving. Just that sensuous rubbing of their lower bodies together, exciting parts of themselves that shouldn't be getting excited that way.

McCoy could take him. He realized that he could drag Kirk to the floor, rip the clothing off his golden body, and skewer him like he'd always dreamed of doing. Right now. Right away. And as hard as he wanted. And Kirk might fight, but not too vigorously. Because on some level, Kirk was wanting this, too. McCoy just knew it.

Kirk could be his!

But not like this.

For suddenly he understood. He didn't want to take it. He wanted it given to him. He wanted it offered up to him. He wanted to be tempted, as if Kirk was trying to seduce him. Or else it wouldn't be any good. It'd just be sex, and McCoy wanted something more than a physical release. It had to be something of the mind and heart and not just of the body. McCoy wanted it all: love... commitment... Kirk. Or nothing.

But Kirk was noncommittal. In fact, he looked downright belligerent. And maybe, just maybe, just a little bit like he was going to cry. Like he was mad, but sad, too. And disappointed. And ashamed, but not for himself. And just like he didn't want anything to do with what was going to happen, but he wouldn't do anything to stop it, either. Not because he couldn't, but because he wouldn't. But in that act, under the current circumstances, all of the love, the real love, would die between them. Leaving nothing but ashes of a former relationship that would haunt them, and rot them, forever.

In other words, nothing about what could happen next was going to be any good, for either one of them.

“Damn it, Jim!” McCoy swore lowly as he relaxed his muscles and tried to steady his breathing. “I don’t want to rape you!”

Kirk glared at him. “Then, don’t!” Kirk pushed against him.

And McCoy dropped his hold on Kirk’s hands. He looked undecided for a moment, then turned aside. His instincts said to run, but he held back a moment longer than he should.

“Now what are you gonna do?!” Kirk demanded, so mad he looked like he was going to cry. “Disappear again?!”

McCoy whirled, angry that Kirk knew that would be McCoy's first choice of what to do. “Me?! Me disappear?! Ha! That’s rich! Like I'm the one to blame here!” And he turned his back on Kirk.

"Bones.... What the hell?" Kirk pleaded for understanding with his hands extended toward McCoy. "What's going on?!"

But McCoy hardened his heart. "You left a long time ago, didn't you? Maybe you didn't realize it, but you did," he snarled.

McCoy wanted to stomp out of their room. But he had a feeling if he did, there would be no returning. For either of them. And neither of them wanted that. Not really. But neither was ready to give in yet, either. Both of them were just that stubborn, McCoy figured. They were at an impasse, a stalemate. Nothing would get decided. Again. And the gap between them would just widen. They'd just let things fester again, like always.

But McCoy figured wrong about Kirk. Or seeing nothing but that broad expanse of McCoy’s stiff back was too much for Kirk. Whatever it was, Kirk was the first to make a concession. Or plea. Or whatever in the hell it was.

For McCoy suddenly felt Kirk’s arms slide around his chest, and McCoy jerked. Then Kirk’s body and face pressed against McCoy's back, and Kirk just clung to him. McCoy closed his eyes and couldn't move, just as Kirk couldn't move when McCoy had him pinned to the wall. For it wasn't strength that held them in place, but all they'd ever meant to each other.

“Don’t leave me, man,” Kirk pleaded softly. “I can take anything but losing you. What would I do without you?” he asked with a slight sob in his voice. He moved his head and planted a soft kiss on McCoy's back, right between the shoulder blades.

McCoy stiffened and swallowed hard. He could feel that pleading kiss burning through two layers of clothing. That kiss, Kirk's kiss, Kirk's mouth, a mouth he'd loved to possess....

"Please," Kirk whispered and moved suggestively against McCoy's back. "Tell me what I need to do."

McCoy bowed his head and gave in to the pressure of Kirk’s body against his, so warm, so loving, so intimate, so willing. He slapped a hand onto one of Kirk’s hands. He had to give Kirk some reassurance that he wasn't walking out the door. At least, not yet.

McCoy loved the way that Kirk clung to him. He could feel Kirk trembling in his panic over losing McCoy. Kirk was upset and vulnerable. How simple it would be just to turn and take Kirk into his arms and start to love him. And have Kirk love him back. Without saying anything, without explaining. Just taking, the way McCoy wanted to.

But would he? Would Kirk love him in return or turn away from him forever? Would they have their night together and never see each other again? Would it be one night of bliss for them, and then would "ol' love 'em and leave 'em Kirk" move on to his next conquest? It would kill McCoy's soul if Kirk did that to him. For McCoy knew that Kirk was capable of doing that very thing.

McCoy broke Kirk’s hold and took a couple of steps forward. He fought down his erratic breathing that had started without his knowledge. “I don’t know what can save us, if anything,” McCoy finally said. He slumped down on his bed with his hands hanging down between his legs and looked utterly dejected. He couldn't stay, but he couldn't go, either. He had no idea what to do with himself.

Kirk knelt on his knees in front of him. “Surely something can be done,” he pleaded as he looked up earnestly into McCoy’s face. “What do you need, Bones? What can I give you to make you stay?” he asked as he clutched at McCoy’s knees as if he was trying to keep McCoy with him.

McCoy turned aside. So simple. So simple to say: 'You! I want you! But if I say it, I’ll lose you for sure.'

“Bones. Please.” Then not knowing what else to do, Kirk bent his head and began kissing McCoy’s leg.

McCoy scrunched his eyes closed so he couldn't see the humble Kirk delivering his worshipful kisses. But McCoy could feel them through the material of his slacks. Soft, gentle, lingering kisses on the thin skin of his bony knees. What would those lips feel like on other parts of his fevered body?

McCoy couldn’t take it. As much as he wanted Kirk’s humility, he wanted to protect Kirk more. He bent, grabbed Kirk by the arms, and pulled him up across his lap. Kirk looked so vulnerable and lost that McCoy wrapped his arms around him and pulled him against his chest and dared anything to disturb this new arrangement.

“Bones,” Kirk breathed and snuggled his head into McCoy’s neck as his hands messed with McCoy's collar. “Don’t scare me like that. Don’t ever leave me, Bones. Never, never leave me.”

“Never,” McCoy promised as his arms tightened around Kirk. It wasn't logical, but McCoy would say and do anything to soothe Kirk at this point. McCoy didn't matter anymore, just Kirk and his wellbeing.

Kirk breathed deeply with happiness as he closed his eyes and just enjoyed the nearness of his friend as McCoy cradled him and whispered reassuring words into Kirk's ear.

McCoy knew that he should leave it at this. But he couldn’t. Because nothing had been decided. At least, not for him. Kirk might be satisfied, but McCoy wasn’t.

“What about you?” McCoy finally murmured.

“Hmm?” Kirk hummed, completely satisfied with how things were at the present moment.

“Can you promise me the same thing?” McCoy wanted to know.

“Hmm?” It sounded deeper, not so automatic.

“Can you promise that you’ll never leave me?”

Kirk raised his head. There was almost a hurt expression on his face.

“You can ask that? Of me?” Kirk wanted to know.

“I see how you treat other people. How you're with them awhile and then you're gone. Will you do that to me eventually?”

The hurt expression deepened. “But you aren’t other people,” Kirk whispered.

McCoy couldn’t control the smirk, and something told him that maybe he shouldn’t try to control it. Let Kirk know how he really felt.

“What makes me so special?” McCoy wanted to know. “Just what in the hell do I have that other people don’t have?” 

Kirk’s eyes flicked over his face, halfway awed, halfway hurt that McCoy didn’t know. “Why, me,” he said softly. “You’ve got me,” he added with a happy smile, just so McCoy understood him. “Didn’t you know that?”

McCoy thought that his face was going to dissolve into tears, and he probably looked that way because he saw concern for him go across Kirk’s face.

"Oh, hell, you didn't know," Kirk breathed. "Oh, hell, Bones, I'm sorry. So very, very sorry. I can see that I've hurt you. And I didn't mean it, Bones. I couldn't. I... I couldn't! Not you! Not my Bones!"

"But the others," McCoy protested, showing how much he'd been hurt. "You've had so many others. And they've had you." He swallowed hard. "Intimately. Why did you let them do that? So willingly?"

"Because I was searching," Kirk murmured. "I was searching for someone to make me forget you. But I never have found that person. Because there is only one person for me. And that's you. You've got my heart, Bones, so you might as well take the rest of me. I haven't got much use for myself if you don't want me. I, I don't know what I'll do if you walk away from me. I just know that there wouldn't be much left for me if you do."

McCoy's eyes burned with tears as he searched Kirk's eyes. When he found no hypocrisy and only honesty there, he gently brushed his lips across Kirk's. Kirk answered him back and the kiss deepened. Then fingers touched faces as their lips discovered all the different tastes and sensations that lips can provide.

They broke the kiss because they needed to breathe and to access what was happening to them.

"Bones," Kirk murmured with closed eyes so his passion wouldn't show. "I've wanted this with you... from you... for so very long. So very, very long."

And then McCoy’s tears of thanksgiving and relief did come. But then Kirk was kissing them away. Then Kirk was shedding happy tears, too. Then they were laughing shyly together, then kissing each others’ tears away. And then the kissing got more intense, and they both forgot about crying because they were so dang happy about the kissing. They decided to leave the words alone, because there were landmines in sentences. They would just let their bodies do their talking for them. And they found that the dialogue was good between them.

They stretched out on McCoy’s bed to enjoy the kissing more and to allow their hands to discover wonderful things on each one’s body. And even though it was an old topic to each one, it was new because it was on a different body, a body known but unexplored. But they would take care of that in the fullness of time.

“What about your studying?” McCoy asked after awhile as his hand messed inside the open collar of Kirk's shirt.

“Got something new to study,” Kirk lisped as those gorgeous eyes took McCoy in as if he was the most prized thing he had ever seen.

McCoy's eyes darted over that darling face just inches from his. “I suppose you know I’m gonna roll you over and make mad, passionate love to you,” McCoy informed him with a mellow smile, testing the waters and making sure that Kirk knew where this all was headed according to McCoy's agenda.

“I’d be pissed off royally if you didn’t,” Kirk murmured back with a relaxed grin.

“You sure?” McCoy asked as he reached down and gently squeezed Kirk’s penis.

“Damn sure,” Kirk answered as he placed his hand over McCoy’s excited member. "I've been wanting this part of you in me for a long time. Make me happy, Bones," he said as he fondled McCoy. "Make me happy as only you can. Take me now so I know I've really got you. Take me, 'cause I don't want anyone else to ever touch me again." He ran his cupped hand up and down McCoy's turgid member.

“Careful,” McCoy cautioned as he grunted in acknowledgment, then breathed in contentment. (Kirk’s hand was on his dick! Wanting him!) “Don’t squeeze too hard, or the fun will be over too fast.”

“No chance of that,” Kirk murmured as he wormed into McCoy’s arms. “I’ll make sure that you pace yourself. I don’t want things to be over too fast, either.”

No danger of that, McCoy thought as he pulled Kirk in for an open-mouthed kiss. This is gonna be an all-night orgy.

And it was.

"So love me tonight; tomorrow was made for some  
Tomorrow may never come for all we know."

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.
> 
> I own nothing of the estate of the late Nat King Cole, nor do I own anything of the song "For All We Know."


End file.
